It's me, again
by Caro13
Summary: Reuniting with the past isn't all Haldir thought it would be. HaldirOC. r&r. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own any of Tolkein's world.

Disclaimer: AU, not following movie verse

Prologue

She staggered painfully through the wood, where were they? She thought. She could barely keep her eyes open as darkness threatened to consume her sight. She trudged on trying to blink away the haze in her eyes. Suddenly, she fell to her knees, not being able to bear the pain on her side while walking anymore as she clutched the bloodied area of her tunic below her ribs. Her ribs, she thought morbidly, she was sure she had more than one broken rib. _Why else would it hurt so much to breath and so hard to catch breath?_ She looked down to the ground, finally noticing that the root that stuck out of the ground next to her hand was curiously silver. This was all too familiar. _Valar help me, it's **his** wood_. She cursed under her breath, she had wandered blindly into the Golden Wood, "that far huh?" she smirked grimly, letting herself remember the length of her journey from Mirkwood and the ambush that was made against their company while patrolling the Gladden Fields. She had walked in the completely wrong direction, she cursed under her breath again, she had meant to lead them back to Mirkwood, or at least near it. At least until she surely knew where more of her Mirkwood elves had been patrolling that week.

"What...that far—what?" asked Amras, his hand reaching out to help his commander get up from the ground. He was not that well off himself; he had long forgotten how long they had stumbled across the fields for since the ambush, his head stinging through the crusted blood on his brow. Every time he made some sort of exaggerated facial movement the gash would begin to bleed again, sending trails of red down his sodden and soiled face. His fever had risen and he was beginning to linger on the brink of delusion; he knew he should be feeling excruciating pain but his mind was beginning to wrap his body in a frighteningly numb state. His leg was broken and torn up from when the warg had savagely shaken it in its mouth, he recalled vaguely. He had nearly fallen to the ground with Aranel when she stumbled, for she was also carrying his weight around for quite a while.

"We're in the woods of Lorien," she said hopelessly, "I'm so sorry Amras," her voice hitching, "I fear I cannot go on with this pain...and who knows how long those damned Lorien wardens will take to stumble across our broken bodies..." she said miserably as pools of tears began forming in her eyes. She painfully stretched her long fingers through the ground, grabbing handfuls of dirt and clenching it with frustration.

Amras felt her shoulders begin to shake under his hand; he had never seen Aranel in such a state. He hated it, he resolved, as he felt hot streaks of tears running down his cheeks.

Aranel managed to get up with Amras' help, not wanting to fail her soldier. She was captain of the Mirkwood warden; she wouldn't let herself die without a fight. She wouldn't let herself die knowing that _he_ might find her in such a state. _Maybe I didn't wander blindly back here after all_, she thought bleakly.

Her long legs were shaking with pain, as she and Amras staggered on through the wood, her face expressionless, dead.

They had not gone five feet when, again, she fell, this time bringing Amras down with her. Her face was plastered to the ground now, inhaling the raw scent of dirt. Amras was taken aback when he finally noticed he was falling, which was seconds to his painful impact on the ground. An agonizing groan ripped out of his throat when he landed on his leg, tears bursting out of his eyes.

Minutes ran by, hours eventually did as well. Not a word was uttered between the soldier and his captain, for the both of them were so tired, so desperate to continue, hating their bodies for not responding to their commands.

"Aranel" said Amras, finally being able to come out of the haze from his mind. He heard nothing in response. Panic filled him, with his last strength he managed to turn himself onto his back, desperately searching for life in Aranel's eyes as he turned his head to see her face. Her eyes were closed, her face paler than the last time he saw it. "Aranel....please..." he rasped desperately. She suddenly took in a shallow breath. He waited until he saw her back raise and fall again. When it did his heart continued beating. Her breaths were few and far between he noticed. His were beginning to slow as well, he thought, as he brought his hand to her face. He tenderly caressed her dirty cheek with the back of his fingers as his brow furrowed, bulbous tears running down his face, blood spilling out of his head, again. _Surprise, surprise_. He began feeling faint, _lost too much blood._ He sighed, _so this is it_.

His crystalline blue eyes shimmered with tears and deepened in anguish as he looked above to the sky. It was near sunset, he noticed. He numbly watched the golden leaves flutter brazenly in the wind, never to die, but to merely change colour come winter. He managed a lopsided smirk as he thought this, only now had he begun to see delicate beauty of his surroundings as his mind darkened every minute. _I've never been in Lorien before... _he thought before his heavy eyelids slowly covered the light of Lorien.

Tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkein's world.

Chapter One

It was beginning to be a loathsome day; with a hefty orc attack at dawn, insubordination from Rumil and a broken finger, Haldir was ready to leave and go back to Caras Galadhon and return to bed. It wasn't even nine yet, and this much had gotten him in a rotten mood. It also didn't help that he had been at the border for five months, his frustrating needs reaching their peak.

As much as it pained him though, he couldn't bring himself to leave his post now that they were receiving more attacks than usual in the past three months. _Things just keep getting better and better, _thought Haldir, a morbid smirk appearing on his lips. Although many things hadn't been going very positively these past few weeks, it was his quarrel with Rumil this morning that had been most affecting to his vile mood; he recalled it with some reluctance: it had been after the relentless orc attack and after he sent a large amount of his elves to the healing flets.

During the battle, Haldir had let Rumil lead a squad to surround a large group of orcs that had escaped the main scuffle. He gave Rumil strict instructions while they both regrouped behind a tree. Rumil's blue eyes had brightened with pride when his older brother entrusted him with a leading role. He never did, until now.

"Rumil, I must stay here and lead the fight with these orcs." Said Haldir in a breathless voice, "Take Sadron, Beriothien, and Turin with you to trail and kill a group of orcs I spotted running eastward," Rumil's internal image of himself puffed out his chest while Haldir continued, "Leave only _one, _best be Sadron, to keep hidden in the trees to eliminate any orc that manages to escape the ambush. There are many, but I am sure you three will have no problems. I trust you with this task," his grey eyes urging, but also glowing with pride for his brother, he was all grown up, "go now or they will stray too far."

And with that Haldir watched as Rumil jumped lightly into the tree and begin to recruit his soldiers from an easy vantage. He knew that Rumil was aware that this was not a task appointed to anyone, for there to be a reason to track scampering orcs there must have been a dangerous amount of them to allow them any chance to escape.

Suddenly, many more arrows could be heard whistling in the air, _more_? He thought. There began to be an astounding amount of orcs appearing in the Golden Wood these past months, he knew not why but decided it was a question best pondered with Celeborn and Galadriel once he got back to the city. He turned his thoughts back to the fight, readying his scabbard and turning away from the tree's shelter to charge the offensive orcs.

**

Rumil's heart pounded with excitement, his chance to prove how much stronger he had gotten after many years of hard work had finally come, he thought, as he gathered the last of his company, Sadron, a wiry young elf with large blue eyes.

The four elves quickly leapt from branch to branch eastwards, long blond hair swishing behind them, their leg muscles tensing through their leggings as their feet silently skipped through the tree branches. The sun was soon to rise, so they quickened their steps to take advantage of the shadows until their noses caught the sickening stench. Rumil signalled to lessen their pace and to begin stalking quietly through the mellyrn branches, readying their weapons of choice. Turin, Beriothien and Sadron drew out their bows, arrows ready at the tips of their eager fingers. Rumil took out his daggers in silent elegance while he ran over the instructions Haldir gave him in his mind.

The stench led the four to a glade, wherein Rumil noticed that there weren't as many orcs as he expected to be put up against four elves, _Only twenty_. _Perhaps Haldir was mislead...or more of them ran off_. Rumil's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. He saw how they were all sprawled out on the grass, crouching or standing, whispering amongst themselves as to when they would begin to move again. _I can take these beasts on_. He glanced at his subordinates; Sadron was young and the newest addition to the warden, inexperienced yet full of potential. _Perhaps that is why Haldir wanted him to stay behind by the cover of trees._ Rumil looked to Beriothien and Turin, both seasoned wardens, their experience shown in the broad expanse of their chests, being developed after many years of the bow, and in the easy manner in which they manoeuvred themselves through the wood, memorized after many patrols.

Rumil knew that he could easily vanquish the orcs himself; there was no need for more than two for the job, _Of course Haldir would send me to kill off this measly group, and with back up no less! _Rumil would have been lying to himself if he didn't think he felt a bit cheated from the greater battle back east, instead he was here, put up against a pitiful amount of orcs. He would prove he needed less help than his brother thought he did. He decided to let Sadron fight with him; _It will serve him as experience_.

The four elves stood huddled, ready for orders:"Beriothien, Turin," he whispered, both of them leaning their heads towards Rumil's instructions, looking at him with eager eyes, "stay up in the trees, keeping west or south, and kill any that escape. There shouldn't be a need with this amount, but we can take precaution." Both elves nodded and sprang up into the trees.

"Shouldn't one of us go down as well?" asked Turin,once they were completely covered by dense leaves,"It's hard to stay fighting from the trees when the battle is below our feet and veiled by mellyrn branches" he looked skeptically to Beriothien. "It's Haldir's orders Turin," said Beriothien, "trust in them. Plus, I can't see much of a threat with these orcs," he shrugged, "I call east." he shot. Turin smirked at him, knowing that he always loved chasing down orcs which were most likely to escape to Mordor. With that they nodded and leaped to their locations.

Rumil looked back at Sadron, who began to look a bit paler and swallowing deeply since Rumil's relay of instructions. "Worry not Sadron," said Rumil with an infectious smile, "this will go by as quickly as you run, just stay alert." He patted his back encouragingly and left to position himself opposite to Sadron across the glade, overlooking the group of orcs, his grey apparel masking any evidence that he was even there.

Once Rumil made sure all were in position he gave a low whistle that perked their sensitive ears, both he and Sadron jumped from the dense cover of leaves to the solid ground and charged the group. The orcs were taken by surprise, and frantically tried to collect their bearings while the two elves began eliminating orc after orc, moving like liquid between their fallen bodies. Rumil's blows came quickly and forcefully, causing a ripple of tension to travel up his lean arms. They were practically done here, thought Sadron as he watched Rumil from the corner of his eye take down every orc he saw as if he were born to do such.

To Rumil's surprise, an arrow came flying from a nearby bush, nicking his shoulder, causing him to back in pain. Sadron noticed the blood seeping through Rumil's sleeve and froze; all elves were taken aback, not expecting more whistling arrows cruising in the direction of the two elves. The orcs took the seconds of shock as an advantage to reveal themselves from the shadows they were hiding in to charge the two unsuspecting elves. Beriothien and Turin snapped out of their stupor and immediately began shooting arrow after arrow wherever they could at the multitude of orcs that were leaking from unseen corners of the wood.

Rumil frantically fought to lead his brawls towards Sadron's side, not wanting him to be left alone to face so many orcs. He could see Sadron struggling to keep up with the amount of orcs they were faced with now, at least another fifty. It appeared that the orcs had deduced who was the weakest link between the two of them.

It was chaos; Rumil didn't expect so many orcs to be hidden without discovery_, A diversion_, he thought, _Damn them. _Out of the corner of his eye, Rumil spotted shorter, scrawnier forms within the attacking orc party, _Goblins!? Of course they would pick this perfect moment to join in, the bastards, _thought Rumil scornfully. This was beginning to be far too much; putting two fingers in his mouth he gave a deafening whistle, to which Turin and Beriothien responded by leaping from the trees to the ground to join the fight.

All four elves were surrounded within a sea of slimy dark creatures, the goblins scampering up the trees only to try and jump on top of them with their weapons. Sadron was caught by one such goblin, being too near a tree, and was crushed to the ground. Turin noticed and desperately ran towards Sadron and began hacking away at the mound of bodies perched on top of his comrade. Rumil and Beriothien kept fighting madly to vanquish the enemy; they were succeeding however many of the goblins that joined the raid ran away, heading west, further into the wood. Rumil noticed this and cursed under his breath as he stabbed another orc.

The last beast was brought down by Beriothien's violent strike with his scabbard. They all let out sighs of relief and at once Rumil and Beriothien headed towards the fallen Sadron, Turin at his side. Sadron had sustained a rather nasty blow to the head and was slowly coming to while Turin began cutting his tunic to serve as a bandage for his own injury, a gash to his leg he received while hacking through the heavy barrage of goblins that had pounced on the young one. Rumil and Beriothien made their way to them, wiping the black blood from their blades and surveying their own minor injuries as they weaved through the bodies lain strewn across the wood.

Rumil froze, finally realizing that all four of them had been fighting on ground, none to keep the goblins from seeping into the wood. _It would be too late for any of us to run off and eliminate them by now_. He groaned falling to his knees, landing beside Sadron. "Sadron, can you hear me?" he asked, shaking the elf's shoulder gently. Sadron's eyes fluttered open and immediately clenched shut in pain, groaning, his face contorted in agony and bloodied. Beriothien cursed as he and Rumil brought the young elf to stand, he clung limply to their shoulders moaning his discomfort as they began trudging silently through the wood towards the main flets, their faces weary and sweat covered, glistening with the rays of the rising sun.

_Haldir is going to KILL me_, thought Rumil, desperately as the group walked in silence. He felt foolish and horrible, not only did he disobey orders but he had also brought needless injury to his friends. He walked with his head bowed, gloomily looking to the ground, "I'm sorry...Sadron, Turin, Beriothien. I never should have approached with Sadron and left you two up in the trees." He said miserably. "Aye, tis true Rumil, but it's not your fault, we were all only following Haldir's orders. His eyes must have tricked him..." said Turin, trailing off. For it was difficult to believe Haldir had been wrong in his strategy. He was a childhood friend to Rumil and grew up along with his brothers long enough to know how much of a perfectionist and brilliant elf Haldir was, _was he getting rust_y? But when Rumil gave him the look he knew only too well; the look of guilt when he was caught in a prank; he sighed miserably, slapping his palm to his forehead, "They weren't his orders were they?" he concluded as he looked to the sky, begging to the Valar it wasn't true.

Rumil looked away, his silence speaking multitudes of his noncompliance. Beriothien snapped his head towards Rumil in horror, looking at him over Sadron's slumped head with intense eyes. When he heard nothing, he said hopelessly, "We'll all be going to Morder for this...", as he looked up to the leaves. Sadron whimpered below.

Their pace slowed, their footsteps falling all too hesitantly, mad Haldir was a warden's nightmare. They all knew that once they arrived at the main flets he would be waiting for them. Waiting to forsake them to Valar only knew.

They weren't disappointed.

There he was: standing with his arms crossed over his broad shoulders, the sun rays behind him making his hair glow, as if he were some sort of imposing God. The four elves internally whimpered. Haldir's face was as stoic as ever, which was a bit more troubling in their opinion, as he surveyed the condition they were arriving in, his eyes darkening, "Beriothien, Turin." he said evenly, "Take Sadron to the healing flet and have your leg treated Turin. Beriothien, you shall lead another group of three to help you burn whatever remains you left, I sense that you all came straight hear." He concluded with a voice as cold and hard as steel as he swivelled a goblin's bow in one hand. _Valar help me, the goblins attacked!_ Rumil winced apologetically when Haldir brought his eyes to him, "Rumil. You come with me." He added darkly as he turned sharply to head to his flet. All the wardens watched as Rumil gulped and walked briskly behind Haldir, head bowed and body tense. This was the Haldir beasts ran from at all costs, this was the Haldir that Celeborn and Galadriel trusted in the certain protection of Lorien, and he was speaking far too calmly for anyone's comfort.

Rumil followed Haldir up to the main flet and saw a seething anger in his eyes when he turned around. "Why did I even see goblins come up against us from your direction Rumil? Can you explain this?" he held the goblin bow up to Rumil as he took a seat on his cot.

He was angry, but he was more concerned as to why they came back scathed, why Sadron of all people, came back barely conscious. He had no idea as to why his strategy backfired when he sent enough elves to finish the majority of the job. Many elves where injured when they were ambushed from the east, not expecting any action to come from there once their March Warden had reassured them that he had sent his brother to take care of things.

"Haldir, I led them in the direction you said to, and we quickly found them...but we only saw about twenty orcs." At this Haldir cocked an eyebrow, he had definitely seen more. "So...I...umm..." Rumil trailed off, he knew that the moment he said he had brought Sadron down with him to fight his brother would blow a gasket. To know that he left _two_ elves in the trees instead of the one Haldir told him to would send him over the edge. Rumil's palms began to get clammy, how would be explain this? His mind was desperately searching for some way to lighten the blow, for himself.

"Rumil?" asked Haldir expectantly. But it was too late for Rumil. He saw it. The same face Turin had seen earlier made its appearance again on Rumil's fair face. "Rumil what did you_ DO_?" asked Haldir desperately, his eyes intense. Rumil's head shot up in surprise, "I told Turin and Beriothien to stay up in the trees," Haldir's brow furrowed at this, "I didn't think I would need more than myself to finish the orcs off...and I thought Sadron could have used the experience." Haldir's jaw clenched, he could not believe he was hearing this. Rumil continued, "I thought that the other orcs you saw earlier must have run off before we got there..."

Haldir shot up from the cot, "You thought _wrong_ Rumil!" he barked as he walked up to his younger brother, "And I assume you got ambushed from there didn't you?" Rumil's head hung low, "Rumil, look at me! You _know _how young Sadron is, in battle he is still nothing but a concern! That was why I told you to keep him in the trees to take down the enemy from afar! I had specifically told you to keep _one _in the trees, but you foolishly left two of your equals there." Haldir shook with frustration.

"The other orcs were hidden Haldir, we were caught off guard" retorted Rumil, he knew excuses wouldn't work, but it was worth a try. "If you had listened to my orders," said Haldir, "the three of you could have killed them all easily at once, I know how well you three fight with each other, having backup in the trees would have made it a walk in the park," seethed Haldir, "I trusted you to follow my orders Rumil, but I see you have lost trust in me. You may disobey me as a brother, I am not your keeper, but out here I am your commander." Haldir's eyes became stormy, "How dare you disobey my orders?! Do you have any idea how many of our men received needless injuries because of your imprudence?! Lorien cannot afford to have a single warden injured in these dark days," he grabbed Rumil by the front of his tunic, roughly bringing him eye to eye with each other, saying harshly in a whisper, "Your over confidence does you a great deal of harm Rumil, and soils my role as a leader out here."

He released his younger brother brusquely and turned away towards the map table. He hated doing this to him, Haldir knew how much Rumil loved protecting his home, he was truly meant to be a warden, but this incident had seriously marred the trust Haldir had established with his brother after many hard earned years. He did not, under any circumstances, tolerate impudence from a soldier.

Rumil stayed in his place, he knew that Haldir was aware that he used the situation for his own foolish ambitions and pride, that he wanted to sing his own praises. He could see it in his eyes, and they were both ashamed of it.

"Rumil pack your things," said Haldir as he reluctantly turned around to face his brother's suddenly pale face, "You are here by suspended from the guard for a year. Your irresponsible actions and pride caused great and needless harm to your fellow wardens. I have told you and everyone else for countless centuries: orders are not to be broken, you must trust me as I trust in you." Haldir turned around again, hating how Rumil's face fell, his shoulders slumping. He caught the defeat and shame in his eyes.

There was a heavy silence when Rumil turned and left the flet, bumping into Orophin on his way out, "Rumil, what happ—" said Orophin, cutting himself off, for it was evident that Rumil was in no mood for talking as he tensely rushed through the trees, hands clenched in fists.

"Haldir, what happened?" asked Orophin once he reached the main flet. Haldir was still bent down over the maps. "He got suspended Orophin." said Haldir icily, "One year, for insubordination." He concluded. "One year!? Was it truly that bad brother? Are you sure you are not exaggerating? He surely cannot deserve this much punishment. It was a slight mishap." said Orophin as he approached the table as well, looking into Haldir's eyes expectantly. Haldir relayed the story to Orophin, who looked on forlornly. Both brother's looked at each other in understanding, he was always the reckless one, they thought.

**

The day went on miserably from then on: when they began hurling orc carcasses into a pile, Haldir used a bit too much of his pent up anger and threw an orc down violently, not realizing his index finger had gotten tangled in the orcs' leather ties. He had winced in pain and had to get one of his wardens to lift the orc so that he could untangle the cursed finger out. He gazed at it, watching it start to swell.

And here he was now, sitting on his cot, a finger broken. He had managed to heel the ache away, but it didn't take away the fact that his finger was broken and in a splint, _this will take at least a month to recover, _thought Haldir with a grim smirk.

Being practically unable to bear any arms, he couldn't help but bring his thoughts back to Rumil's incident this morning. Had he failed in bringing up his youngest brother? He had always made sure to set a superior example for Rumil since he was an elfling, since their parents passed. _Where did I go wrong?_ Haldir sighed as he looked above to the sky, it was late afternoon and all he had done was sulk. He sighed in frustration,_ what am I doing here?_

So before the sun could set, Haldir finally decided to go out and make use of himself with a scouting group of fifteen to patrol the northern area, making sure that Lothlorien was in its undisturbed order. Walking through the wood was thankfully beginning to calm him; his temper simmering to lukewarm. He ran his hand over the silver mellyrn bark; feeling its smoothness under his fingers, relishing in the crisp autumn air of the evening. He looked up to the leaves, noticing that some were indeed changing colour from silver to gold. He slowly let his grey eyes linger downwards, catching glimpses of animals here and there. Suddenly, his eyes spotted a mound of some sort, it was too far to judge what it was so he ordered the wardens to begin surrounding it up on the trees. He, along with Orophin and five others approached on foot as the rest silently made their way forward.

Haldir began to make out the shape of two bodies on the ground, wearing garb from Mirkwood, "They are elves! Lower your bows." He ordered when he saw no cause for defence, these elves were clearly injured and unconscious or most likely dead considering the amount of blood that was visible.

As he neared the bodies he examined them more thoroughly. They were definitely of the Mirkwood warden: the dark green tunic and brown leggings, although immensely soiled, could still be seen. One of the wardens was facing upwards, his blond hair dishevelled and plastered to his face with blood. His head was turned to the other elf, his hand near his face. Haldir knelt beside him and checked for a pulse. His heart was beating, slowly, but if they healed him quickly he would be able to recover. The gash on his head seemed to be infected, which explained the beads of sweat and high temperature he had, _he's just unconscious_, Haldir sighed, relieved that the elf would be able to survive.

"Turn him over," Haldir said as he motioned to the other elf, who was lying face first on the ground. Orophin came and carefully turned him over, supporting his head so as not to cause any more trauma to the body. Once the elf faced the group, sharp intakes of breath could be heard from the Lorien wardens; for it was an ellith who lay there, bloodied and bruised. Haldir froze, recognizing the face, "Aranel" his voice barely a whisper as the name went through his lips far too easily than he wished it would.

Tbc


End file.
